Affection is an overpowering craving to be compellingly sought.

Unless I'm wrong I but obey The urge of a song: I'm-bound-away! And I may return If dissatisfied With what I learn From having died.

I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate wilfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better.

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.

Oh, come forth into the storm and rout And be my love in the rain.

The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.